Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood
by Red Aurora
Summary: With Xavier's school open and the government's acknowledgement of mutants, Charles' and Erik's differences are more apparent than ever.  To make matters worse, Onslaught wants a say in things. Sequel to A Spark Neglected.
1. Chapter 1

Here it is, the first chapter of the first sequel for A Spark Neglected. It took a little longer than expected. Blame it on grad school. If you haven't read A Spark Neglected, I would suggest it, but I don't think it's _absolutely_ necessary. If you want my explanation of Onslaught, it's in chapter 5, so you could glance over that chapter if you want.

If you don't feel like reading it, here's a quick recap:

It takes place during XFC. Onslaught is all of Charles' suppressed desires. Shaw kidnapped Charles and managed to unleash Onslaught, who took over Charles' body. Onslaught turned on Shaw and killed him because, since he's part of Charles, he wanted peace too…except he's willing to do whatever it takes to get it, even if it means controlling everyone via psionic web and taking away free will. He then turned on Erik and co. because (1) they were trying to stop him and (2) they were causing Charles to fight back against his control of their body. In the end, Charles won out and they all went back at the mansion, but Erik managed to keep Shaw's helmet and Charles and Onslaught know that Erik may very well turn on them in the future.

Whew. 14 chapters in 1 paragraph. Not bad.

Alright. As with A Spark Neglected, my goal is to (loosely) merge the comic universe with the movie universe using the awesomeness of Onslaught. Now that that's out of the way, I'll get on with it.

DISCLAIMER FOR ALL CHAPTERS: I don't own X-Men, the movies, the comics, nothing. That's all Marvel's shebang.

Rated T because of the potential for language and violence and because I'm paranoid.

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><p>Time goes on and with it comes change.<p>

After Cuba and Onslaught, things had been fine…for a while. Charles had recovered with Erik hardly leaving his side. Training had resumed, then recruiting. Not long after that, the school had opened. It was a small contingent, but growing. Scott Summers had been the first they picked up after Alex revealed the existence of his younger brother. Next was Ororo Monroe, a Tunesian girl Charles remembered from his very first outing in Cerebro. Third was Jean Gray, a promising telepath and telekinetic. Charles was fascinated with her and, much to his excitement, she was fascinated right back, thrilled to pick up on any telepathic tricks and control he could teach her. There were now ten students in the school and registration for the next school year had gone well, particularly with Cerebro fully functional beneath the mansion. The following fall expected many more of the empty rooms to be filled.

As life so often is, though, the good was accompanied by, well, the not good. A year after Cuba, the US government acknowledged the existence of mutants to the general population. That was when Erik and Charles' "debates" had started. They were cordial at first. Only Hank, Sean, Alex and Raven had any idea what was being said behind closed doors as the two school leaders played chess. As time went on, though, the "debates" got more and more frequent. Muffled shouts would be occasionally heard. The shouting escalated in frequency and, while the two made sure they never argued in front of the students, everyone eventually became aware of what was going on. It was impossible to ignore, particularly when it was happening almost every day. The two were the very definition of friendship outside of that. It was their ideals they couldn't get past.

Despite their close friendship, a distrust was slowly growing, the seeds of which had been planted in Cuba over two years earlier. Charles knew Erik had secretly kept Shaw's helmet. Erik knew Charles interacted with Onslaught despite the fact that the entity had nearly enslaved the world. The metaphorical seeds' water and sustenance was provided by the government's growing unease with mutants. Like with any political issue, battle lines had been drawn with strong proponents for both mutant rights and a lack thereof. Charles was slowly making a name for himself in the scientific community for his work on mutations. For now, he was well known only within the genetics community but that was sure to change sooner rather than later. He was already being contacted for interviews for increasingly prominent newspapers. It was only a matter of time before television shows picked up on it too. The professor was thriving, basking in the acknowledgment of his work and thrilled to be educating people and advocating mutant rights. Instead of making Erik feel more at ease, however, the German became even more wary. Onslaught had been at bay for over two years now, but all it would take would be a single slip up for Charles to lose control…to destroy everything he was building. The humans would turn on him and the mutant community and everything would go straight to hell.

Everything came to a head on a day like any other. It should have been cloudy…rainy…something other than bright and sunny and hopeful, as if the strongest friendship anyone at the school had seen wasn't about to split down the middle like a tree struck by lightning. Two days earlier, Erik had made a comment in front of the students about humans deserving nothing more than the enslavement they would give mutants. Ten minutes after, Charles had calmly asked if they could have a private word. Nobody mentioned the simultaneous spike of a headache they'd felt or the disfigured metal lamp that materialized in the trash later that day.

Jean, Scott and Ororo, a virtually inseparable trio, were walking by Erik's room when they heard muffled voices. While they knew their two mentors had their disagreements, they'd never actually heard what was being said behind closed doors. They stopped as close as they dared and listened. Erik's voice wafted through he doors.

"They will never show us the mercy you're so willing to give them!"

There was silence for a moment, then-

"I know what's happening frustrates you, Erik, but it's hardly worth even thinking about attacking Senator-"

"Damn it, Charles! Stay out of my head!" The man sounded beyond angry.

"I wasn't in your head!" Charles replied, voice holding just an ounce more hostility than before. "You're practically throwing your thoughts at me! There's only so much control I can maintain when your mind is screaming!"

"Then learn to control it better! You know what happened last time you let loose!" The three teens looked at one another, wondering if this was one of the rare references to the Cuba incident that was kept hush-hush in the school.

Charles' calming sigh was almost audible through the heavy wooden door. "We're not talking about that right now."

"You're right," Erik sneered back. "We're not. We're talking about how the humans will never allow us to live freely without judgment and fear-"

"No, Erik," Charles interrupted, voice deceptively serene. "We're talking about how you want to commit genocide."

All three pulled back at that very serious accusation. Before they could recover and start listening again, Alex and Hank spotted them and ushered them away to the study a few doors down where the some of the other students were gathered around watching cartoons. The older students often made sure the younger ones were out of auditory range of the arguments. Muffled voices could still be heard if you listened for them, but the words weren't distinguishable.

A door slamming open caused all those in the room to jump then scamper into the hallway before the older students could stop them. The students stood frozen in the hallway as Erik stalked out of his room. He wore a helmet on his head that only those from the beach recognized. Charles followed soon after, not looking nearly as surprised about the presence of the helmet as the Hank, Alex, Sean, and Raven. Instead, he looked disappointed, tired and…angry. In fact, Jean could've sworn she saw a fury in her mentor's eyes as he looked at the piece of metal on Erik's head and…was that a wisp of orange? As quickly as it had come, it was gone and forgotten in the gravity of the situation.

This time things were different. Erik completely ignored the students as he passed by, making his way down to the front stoop, Charles not far behind. Everyone followed, sensing something was happening that they should be aware of. Erik was down the steps and in the lawn. Charles was following. The children hovered on the stoop.

"Erik, stop!" Charles shouted.

Erik whipped around to face him. "Why? I can't do this anymore, Charles! I won't sit on my hands while our kind gets persecuted! I can't go on Easter egg hunts for new mutants with you when I could be out there doing something!"

"That's what I am to you? Some naïve child hunting for treasures?"

Erik's features softened minutely, but he stood his ground.

"I think the peace you believe in is something that can never occur while humans are on this planet."

The two men stood in silence, staring at one another, neither wanting to speak. Both knew they had finally reached the impasse they couldn't cross together. After what seemed like both an eternity and a flash, Charles gave a sigh.

"You're leaving, aren't you."

Erik looked more emotional than anyone had ever seen him. "I don't want to. We're brothers, you and I. I want you by my side. We want the same things."

Charles gave a melancholy smile. "Oh, my friend, we do not."

Erik looked close to tears for exactly two seconds before he straightened, face going stony. He turned his attention to the students, all of whom were now on the stoop and lawn behind Charles.

"The humans will never accept us for who we are. They will hunt us down, experiment on us, and use us for their own purposes. I intend to make sure that does not happen. Anyone who wishes to join me should come now."

The students stood frozen. After a moment, there was movement from the side of the crowd. Without looking behind him, Charles closed his eyes in sad resignation. Only Erik saw the pain that momentarily flickered across his features. Puzzled, he almost let his mask drop until he saw what Charles was reacting to. Raven separated herself from the crowd walking forward towards the two men. Charles took a breath and opened his eyes before turning to her, face not holding the pain it had seconds before. Raven stopped at her brother. He reached out and grasped her hand, holding it loosely in his own as they looked at each other.

"You should go with him. It's what you want."

"Charles, I-"

"It's alright. You must follow the path you feel you should."

"I'll miss you."

"And I you."

With that, he kissed her hand before letting her go stand by Erik. No one other than Charles noticed the look of apology Erik gave him. Charles looked away and Erik turned his attention to the crowd.

"I'm sure we will be meeting again. If anyone ever wishes to join my cause, you will be welcomed."

Though he spoke to the crowd, he focused on Charles, clearly wanting the man to join him. Charles responded with a sad smile and a barely noticeable shake of his head. Hank, Alex and Sean had walked forward to stand behind Charles. Despite the telepath's apparent strength, the three knew the bond Charles had with both Erik and Raven and how difficult the moment must be. While they knew there was little they could do, they would stand beside him and offer him their strength in his time of need.

Erik and Raven walked away, not turning back to look at Charles standing on the stoop surrounded by his students.

* * *

><p>Onslaught and Charles sat in a room that looked like it had been created by MC Escher, a chess board between them. The telepath hadn't told anyone (though he suspected those who were present on the beach knew), but since the Cuban beach he had been attempting to gain more control over Onslaught. In order to do this, he had to interact with the entity residing within his mind. The night after Erik left, he certainly needed the distraction.<p>

Onslaught moved a rook. "It was always going to be this way."

Charles countered his move and took one of Onslaught's pieces. "I know."

"This is just the beginning. He'll only get worse now that he's away from our influence. You need to let me out. It's the only way you'll be able to stop him from destroying everything."

"No."

"Oh, come on," Onslaught taunted. "Two years gone, I still remember how you felt back in Cuba when I was using all that power…when you felt all the power you could have. You liked it."

"No. We need to let him follow his own path. We can't just barge into his head and change his mind because it's what we want."

Onslaught smiled widely. "Fine. You won't let me out. I'll let it go for now." The doppelganger's eyes sparkled, even as he conceded.

Charles looked up, puzzled. "That's certainly unusual. Might I ask why?"

Onslaught leaned forward. "Because you referred to yourself as 'we' not 'I'."

Charles awoke with a sharp inhale, Onslaught grin still fading from his sight.

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><p><strong>AN (please read!)** - Okay, here's the deal. This story is basically a series of stories that might be able to stand alone but work together to lead up to the second sequel. If you start getting frustrated or not liking it, please please please at least give the 2nd sequel a chance cause I'm super excited about it

Please review! Don't be too harsh. I get enough of that as a grad student. And don't hate me for making Erik leave! It had to happen, but it made me sad too!


	2. Chapter 2

**Titles**: I'm trying something different this time and titling each chapter. For the most part, they'll come from song lyrics, poems, and quotes. Every now and then I'll mix it up and do something different. Gotta keep you on your toes.

**Proofing**: I have to thank Winnie for reading over the first chapter for me. I forgot to thank her when I uploaded, so here it is now. She's super busy though, so if there's anyone who wants to help me proofread and make sure everything flows, I'm open to volunteers :) Forgive any errors in this chapter. I proofed it myself and I miss things sometimes.

**Updates**: I'm going to try to publish every one to two weeks. It'll be touch and go once classes start again because I'll be working on my thesis and getting ready for conferences and all that grad school jazz. It helps that I have a fair bit already written, so yay for that. Anyway, it probably won't be as quick or consistent as A Spark Neglected was updated, but I promise I won't abandon the story, so you don't have to worry about that. And, hey, if I end up publishing quickly and consistently, it'll be an awesome surprise.

**Thanks**: Finally, thank you to my story alerts, favorites, and to my lovely reviewers! I'm trying to reply to people because I really do appreciate taking the time to leave a review, but failed spectacularly in the first chapter. We'll see if I'm able to stay on that. Enough of this obscenely long note.

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><p>Chapter 2: Never mind I'll find someone like you (Adele, "Someone Like You")<p>

In the time following Cuba, Charles and Erik had taken to going to a park in town to play chess. It was a chance to get away from the mansion, see the real world, and to have time to themselves. That was where they found themselves two months after Erik and Raven left Westchester. Erik froze when he first saw Charles, but some of the tension left his shoulders at the telepath's soft smile.

"Hello, my friend. I was hoping you'd be here."

"How did you- Why are you here?" Erik stuttered.

"For the same reason you are I suspect: to play a game of chess. I was here last month as well, but I suppose you were busy."

Charles' mood remained chipper in spite of Erik's blank stare. The telepath turned to indicate a table.

"Would you care to sit?"

Just like that, the game began. The two obviously missed the camaraderie they'd enjoyed over the past 3 years. Charles had made the first move, both in chess and in conversation, so Erik assumed it was his turn.

"I'm not getting the looks I usually get wearing the helmet. I take it that's your doing."

"I didn't think you'd want any unnecessary attention."

"Playing with people's minds, Charles?" Erik teased.

"More suggesting they look elsewhere. Nothing invasive. My morals are still intact."

Erik smiled at how easily they fell back into their old patterns of conversation. Still, the underlying tension between them didn't escape him. He determined to keep conversation relatively neutral for the time being. Despite the initial tone the conversation took, he couldn't help but feel that he and Charles sat at a precipice. If this meeting went badly, their friendship might just be the collateral damage. Charles' posture indicated that he knew the same. Their differences could be addressed another time. For now, chess wasn't the only game of strategy being played.

"How are the children?" Erik asked.

"Everyone is fine. Adjusting, and if I do say so, they're doing it quite well. Hank has been particularly helpful."

"Good. That's good," Erik said haltingly. "And you? How have you been?"

"Busy. There has been a ridiculous amount of work to do between running the school and searching for potential students with Cerebro, but I suppose that's a good thing. How's Raven?"

Charles' kept a deceptively casual tone as he asked about his sister. Erik raised his head, but Charles stubbornly refused to meet his gaze, instead staring at the board as if contemplating his next move. Erik dropped his gaze again, mirroring Charles' position.

"She's fine. She misses you and everyone else, but…she's fine."

"That's good to hear. How about you?" the telepath asked, just as casually as his previous inquiry.

"I suspect somewhere along the same lines as you. Busy, but in a good way."

"Yes, I notice you lost no time finding the lovely Miss Frost."

The first signs of anything other than cheerfulness made their way into Charles' voice. Erik gave no indication that he heard the disapproval. "Actually, she wasted no time finding me. After remnants of the Brotherhood broke her out of CIA custody, they basically traipsed around the world until they came to us. She said she'd suspected I'd be on the market for a telepath and decided to offer her services."

"How generous of her. She even brought Azazel, Riptide, and Angel with her." There was the sarcasm Erik was so accustomed to.

"Yes, that's taken some…getting used to…but we're adjusting."

"I must confess, I'm surprised you're so willing to work with Shaw's former accomplices."

"Frost really isn't as bad as she came across. As it turns out, Shaw had more of an influence on her than even she knew. She'd been in his presence since soon after her powers manifested. Apparently, she picked up on his projected feelings and mistook them to be her own. Once he put on the helmet and she got captured by the CIA, his influence faded from her mind. She's still rather…sociopathic…and she most certainly believes in my cause. She's just more, shall we say, amenable to work with." Erik frowned. "She explained it better than I did."

Looking up, he found Charles' eyes alight with curiosity.

"That's fascinating! I always suspected someone could have that kind of influence over an inexperienced telepath, but I never had any confirmation!"

"Well, now you do."

The conversation died down, but not in a bad way. The pair remained quiet, simply appreciating one another's company. As the game drew towards its close, Charles broke the silence without looking up from the board.

"I understand why you left."

"Do you?"

"Yes. Onsla-," Charles stopped himself abruptly and glanced at Erik before clearing his throat. "I knew your feelings and understood them, though I must admit I in no way claim to comprehend your experience in the camps and I would never claim to. I do not agree with what you intend to do, but I still have the general sense of your fear and…well…I understand why you left."

Erik gave a short nod, not allowing the reference to his past distract him from Charles' vocal misstep.

"How is Onslaught? Not causing too much of a fuss I hope."

Charles winced. "No. He's been quite well behaved of late. How long have you known I've been talking with him, out of curiosity?"

"Just after Cuba. Since that first game of chess after you woke up," Erik said. He hesitated as Charles nodded. "How long did you know I had the helmet? You weren't at all surprised when I pulled it out."

"Same. Since you brought it back from the beach."

"You were unconscious when I went to get it," Erik said skeptically.

"But not completely senseless. Honestly, Erik, you were so conflicted about it at first I'm surprised the entirety of Westchester didn't pick up on it."

Erik shook his head and released a solemn laugh. "We've both known this was coming since that damn beach, haven't we?"

"Yes, I think so," Charles said with a smile that matched Erik's laugh. "Although…it doesn't mean we cannot continue to maintain a friendship."

The hopefulness Erik exuded must have been evident because Charles visibly brightened as he took in the magnokinetic's reaction.

"We can meet for chess. Once a month. Right here. Put aside our differences for a few hours."

"I'd like that very much," Erik responded after a contemplative pause for appearance's sake.

"Excellent!" Charles moved a chess piece. "I believe that's checkmate, my friend."

"So it is. I suppose it's time I take my leave."

"I suppose so." The men stood awkwardly, unsure how to say goodbye once again. They glanced to one another.

"Well, I'll be going then." Erik began to walk away. He'd gotten ten feet before Charles spoke.

"Erik!"

Erik turned back around a little faster than he intended. "Charles?"

Charles looked unsure. "Do you feel you made the right choice? Leaving us? Starting your Brotherhood?"

"I don't regret leaving if that's what you're asking. I regret that you wouldn't join me but I do not regret my cause. I chose the path less traveled."

The confidence Charles usually exuded returned full force. "Oh, my friend, two roads diverged in a yellow wood, but one is no more or less traveled than the other. We both walk paths that have been equally traveled by those before us. I suppose we shall find out where they lead."

"Ever the philosopher," Erik smiled. "Goodbye, Charles. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."

"I'm sure."

With that, Erik left Charles standing in the park, a smile gracing his face.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes<strong>:

The title refers to Erik working with Emma, in case you missed the reference.

I should also mention some basics that I'm going for in these sequels. This is the first of three. It's going to cover a couple of things from the comics, then bring in some aspects of the first X-Men movie from 2000. I'll try to have explanations of comic or movie bits that I brought in at the end of each chapter. I haven't made any major references yet, but stuff starts revving up in the next chapters. Don't you worry.


	3. Chapter 3

A little shorter than the first two chapters, but that might be because I don't have a massive note at the beginning. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Pride goeth before destruction (Proverbs 16:18)<strong>

Charles and Onslaught sat in their usual positions at the chessboard in Charles' mind. Onslaught absently pulled at the tether that held him in place, frowning when his movement was restricted by it. Charles made his move then lifted his attention to the other entity.

"Sometimes I wonder why I do this with you."

Onslaught stopped fidgeting with the tether. The frown was gone, replaced with his usual smirk. "Because Erik is gone and no one else can challenge you at it."

"I still play him once a month."

"So if you weren't playing with me, you'd have played, what, six games of chess since he left? As if that could be enough for our mind."

Charles raised an appraising eyebrow at the other being. "We always end in a stalemate."

"For now. But I'm learning."

"So am I."

Onslaught's smirk widened into a grin. "Very good." There was a pause. Onslaught's features sobered. "You shouldn't go after the mutant in India. It's too dangerous."

"I can handle myself," Charles said, taking a slightly defensive tone.

"I'm well aware of that fact, but you know just as well as I do how powerful that mutant we sensed was. You're going to throw us into danger to prove to everyone that you can find mutants and run this school without help. It won't end well."

"That's not why I'm doing this. It's not about proving a point."

"Oh? Then enlighten me."

"I- Well- I just don't see the point in anyone else coming when we're perfectly capable to doing it on our own."

"As much as it pains me to admit it, we can't do everything on our own. Not unless we're working together fully, which you obviously won't allow. This is a bad idea."

Charles gave Onslaught a challenging stare before turning his attention back to the board and making his move.

Onslaught sighed and moved to counter. "Just try not to get us killed."

* * *

><p>"Jean, you shouldn't do this! You're not strong enough! You've never even been in the room before, much less operated Cerebro!"<p>

Jean whipped around, red hair swinging behind her. "Do you have a better idea, Scott? He left for India a week ago. We haven't been in contact with him for 3 days when he said he'd contact us every 8 hours. Hank and the others have had no success finding any information about where he might have gone. If he's hurt or needs help, we're running out of time."

"Just- we don't know what will happen. What if it hurts you?"

"I'm eighteen years old. I can make my own decisions. It's worth the risk."

"And I'll be here to help." Scott and Jean turned to find Hank standing at the elevator doors. "I'm sorry Scott, but I'm with Jean on this one. If I make the proper calibrations, she can handle it. We're out of other options."

Scott's shoulders slumped in defeat. Jean put a hand on his arm.

"It'll be okay," she assured him as their eyes met. "I can do this."

Twenty minutes later, the necessary calibrations had been made. Jean put the helmet on and took a deep breath.

"I'll be right here," Scott said with a reassuring nod.

Jean looked at the chestnut-haired man standing to her right and gave a nervous smile. "Thanks. You're a good friend."

With that, she gave Hank the go-ahead and the world became a mass of stars.

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><p>Erik was in his room pouring over details from Azazel and Mystique's last reconnaissance mission when a sharp cry pulled him from his thoughts. He gathered his senses, but felt no metal to indicate attack. There was another cry then a thud mixed in with movement from another room. Erik raced towards the sound, bursting into the kitchen. Emma was on her knees surrounded by Riptide, Angel, and Raven, who stood in confusion. The telepath had her hands fisted in her hair. Her eyes were closed tight in pain.<p>

"What's going on?"

"We don't know," Riptide said, at a loss. "She just tensed up and fell."

Emma abruptly relaxed, hands dropping to the ground to keep herself from falling forward as she panted and tried to regain her senses. Everyone seemed to understand she needed a moment and remained silent. After a long minute, the blond looked up at her leader.

"There's something wrong at your former place of residence."

Erik paled, but otherwise did a fair job at remaining stoic at the declaration. "What happened? Have they been attacked?"

Riptide and Raven helped her move herself to a chair as the telepath took the water Angel offered her.

"No, nothing like that," she began after taking a generous sip from the glass. "They're anxious…worried about something big."

"How do you know?" Erik cut in. "Was that Charles contacting you?"

Erik had never known Charles to cause that kind of pain from making contact them. On the other hand, nobody to his knowledge was powerful enough to contact them this far outside of Westchester.

"No, it was another telepath. A girl. I couldn't get a good sense of her."

"Jean?" Raven gasped in surprise. "But she's not nearly strong enough to reach us at this distance!"

"She was using that machine…what do you call it…Cerebro? I don't know what's going on, but she sent out a wave of anxiety that, well, brought me to my knees. Literally."

"But if she was trying to contact you…"

The German trailed off as Emma shook her head. "I don't think she was. I'm fairly certain every telepath within 3000 miles of New York felt what I did. I'm just the only one good enough to tell what it was."

Erik found his stoicism increasingly difficult to maintain. The fact that Jean was in Cerebro either meant Charles had completely lost control of the place or that something was very wrong. Emma seemed to sense his impatience despite his helmet.

"I don't know exactly what's wrong. I just know they're anxious, they're trying to find somebody, and your Charles isn't able to do it. From what I know of him, that either means he's out of commission or, more likely, he's the one they're trying to find."

Raven looked up at Erik with concern scrawled on her face. Erik remained silent, considering the situation, though his decision was made as soon as the potential of trouble at Westchester was an option. Taking a deep breath, he glanced to the mutants in the room.

"New York is lovely this time of year. I think we should make a visit."

* * *

><p><strong>MovieComics Spoilers**: You could argue Jean using Cerebro is a reference to X1 (which is what I'm calling the 2000 X-Men movie from here on out). I wouldn't deny you. Charles going to India is also a reference to the comics. After he and Erik meet and defeat Baron Strucker, they go their separate ways. Charles ends up in India. More on that next chapter :)

**Note**: Sorry if it was a bit jumpy. It all makes sense with where I'm going in my head if that helps. Hopefully people saw my hints at the time jump. Since Erik and Charles have played six games of chess (like Onslaught said), it's about seven to eight months since Erik left the mansion. Tack on another week between the Onslaught/Charles conversation and Jean using Cerebro.


	4. Chapter 4

_Quick note: A lot of the titles I'm using are in songs or poems referring to love and romantic relationships. To be clear, like "A Spark Neglected", this story and the ones that follow are friendship/brotherly love fics. I just like a lot of the lines in songs/poems and think they seem appropriate (if taken out of context) for a close friendship and the stuff Erik and Charles go through in the their friendship._

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: The way is suspicious... (Walt Whitman, "Whoever you are now holding my hand")<strong>

Jean blinked several times to reorient herself and found that she was in her own bed. Scott and Ororo sat on either side of her while Hank hovered at her head and Alex stood back, arms crossed over his chest. Immediately, she winced as their anxiety pummeled her. She could even feel it from Sean, who was 2 floors away taking his shift with the younger students. Last she remembered she'd given Hank the go ahead to start Cerebro.

"How do you feel, Jean?" Beast asked as he shined a light in her eyes. "Headache, nausea, anything?"

"I'm fine," she said as she pushed his hand away from where it was prodding at her head. Everyone in the room raised an eyebrow at her in a very Charles-like fashion. It would have been comical if it hadn't reminded her of why she was currently laying in her bed feeling like her head had possibly taken part in a failed attempt at the Running of the Bulls.

"I have a headache and I doubt I should get out of bed for a little while. What happened? Did we find him?"

The downcast looks were all the answer she needed.

"You did the best you could," Ororo chimed in comfortingly. "We could hardly expect you to do something so specific on your first time out in a machine that to our knowledge only the professor has successfully mastered."

Hank returned to her side with two pills and some water. "This should help with the headache. Anything else I should know about? The professor will kill me when we find him if something detrimental happens to your health because I put you in Cerebro."

"I'm- I feel like everyone is at the edge of my mind. Like I can't block them. It's not painful. More like when you stand at the ocean and the waves wash over your feet. I can hear murmurs of everything that I usually aren't there."

Hank nodded. "That's not surprising. You stretched your limits. Your shields are likely frayed at the edges. It will go away once you recover. For now, you'll probably be hyperaware of what everyone is thinking."

"Everyone, think nice thoughts," Alex deadpanned. Scott smiled for the first time since Jean woke. Before she could address the boy, four consciousnesses popped into her head. Her surprise must have been evident, as Scott grabbed her hand.

"What? What's wrong?"

"We have company."

* * *

><p>Erik, Emma, Raven, and Azazel appeared in a poof on the grounds of the Xavier estate. It was rather unceremonious and anticlimactic as far as returns to abandoned homes went, though Erik didn't exactly have experience to base any assumptions on how a return home should actually go. Either way, he was too focused on the task at hand to worry about it. As soon as they'd gotten their feet under them, Erik and Raven led the way to the door. Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal a very angry Alex Summers.<p>

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"No, Alex, stop!" Jean came into view supported by Ororo and Scott. She looked awful, face pale with dark circles under her eyes and a pinched look that had the Brotherhood virtually feeling the headache the girl must have. Using Cerebro had obviously taken its toll on her. "They're here to help."

"How do you know?" Alex retorted as he swung to face the trio.

"How do you think?" Hank replied as he strode into view. "I just finished telling you that she's hyperaware of everyone's thoughts. She would know their intentions better than any of us."

Alex deflated minutely and Hank turned to their guests, face going cold. "Now, what the hell are you doing here?"

Erik felt his temper flare. This was not the response he'd been expecting. He'd been so focused on Charles following their break that he hadn't given much thought to how Alex, Sean, and Hank might have been affected. Emma interrupted before he could release his wrath upon them. "Word on the street is you're down a telepath. Might we come inside and discuss this?"

Five minutes later, the group was in Charles' study, which was presently covered in maps, books, and a variety of documents Erik recognized as important when conducting a long distance search. Ororo had taken over for Sean, allowing the three who had the most experience with Erik and Raven to deal with the Brotherhood. Jean rested on the couch with Scott in the chair nearest her head.

"I apologize," Hank began. "We're all a little bit on edge. We didn't mean to yell."

"I did," Alex mumbled, but shut up at Hank's glare.

"Anyway," Sean said loudly, cutting off any further protest, "how did you find out about the professor?"

Emma looked to the fiery-haired telepath. "I picked up your distress. You did a good job for your first time in the machine. You broadcast a signal that had to have gone at least across the US."

Jean winced. "I wasn't trying to broadcast a signal. I was trying to locate the professor."

"Oh. Well, in that case, you did a terrible job." Emma grinned as Jean's expression dropped to a scowl. "Don't worry though, dear. I'm sure your professor will be able to help you with that once we find him."

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Alex cut in. "They abandoned us. Why should we-"

"As Hank pointed out, we're out of options," Scott interrupted. "Jean says their intentions are good. Give them a chance to help us. For Charles."

Hank heaved a sigh, a combination of frustration and an effort to calm himself, before facing the Brotherhood.

"Charles left for India a week ago. He had discovered a particularly powerful mutant in the Himalyas using Cerebro. He refused to allow anyone to accompany him and told us he would contact us every 8 hours."

"You let him go by himself?" Raven bristled.

"Do you think we could have stopped him once his mind was set? The only people who have ever been able to talk him out of anything," Hank shot back, glancing from Raven to Erik pointedly, "were gone."

"Three days ago, he missed his check-in," Sean picked up. "We haven't heard from him since. We've been trying to find him, but haven't had any luck."

Hank took over again. "Jean was our last hope in discovering his location on our own. Alex and Sean are flying to India tomorrow."

Everyone simultaneously turned to Alex and Sean. The pair stood tall, though they couldn't hide the nervousness they felt at their first mission without Charles or Erik at the head.

Erik looked skeptical. "Have you two even left the country before?"

Alex raised his head in defiance, traces of nervousness gone. "There's a first time for everything."

"Do you speak the language? Know the area? Have any idea the general area Charles might be in?"

"We'll figure it out."

"We'll do what we need to do," Sean replied. "Professor X has always been there for us. He's trained us. Hell, you trained us until a few months ago. We can do this."

Erik scoffed. "Forgive me, but you don't know the first thing about finding a person in a foreign country. The training Charles and I provided won't help you do that. A powerful mutant in an unknown country with two amateurs? Jumping off satellite dishes and shooting energy beams from you chest won't cut it."

Alex bristled. "And what do you suggest, oh so powerful Magneto?"

"I'll go."

That shut everyone up.

"I've been to the area before. I speak enough Hindi and Punjabi to get by where English won't help."

"You speak Hindi and Punjabi?" Sean questioned.

Erik shrugged. "One of Shaw's men hid there. I picked some things up before I killed him."

Hank, for his part, managed to keep his wince minimal, but couldn't hide the fact that he wasn't convinced.

Erik looked the blue beast straight in the eye. "Despite what you might think, I still consider Charles a friend. You know I'm good at finding people. I'm the best person to do this."

None of the others could disagree. It was no secret that the man had spent years hunting down Shaw and the Nazis who had killed his mother.

"Fine. Follow me." Everyone shifted to a map on the table as Hank walked over to it. A red circle delineated a few cities and villages near the mountains. "This is the best we can do to narrow down his location. The coordinates weren't as specific this time…more fuzzy. That was part of why he insisted he go himself. He was afraid it would be dangerous if it could shield itself from his telepathy from such a distance."

Raven narrowed her gaze, apparently still angry about that, but didn't argue the point. Erik, for his part, never stopped examining the map.

"I can work with that." He'd worked with far less before, after all.

"Good," Hank said with an authority Erik never would have expected 3 years ago. "If he's out of contact, it's because he can't communicate. Check hospitals first. Call us as soon as you find anything."

Erik nodded stiffly as he folded up the map. "I know what to do."

"I'm coming too."

Even Erik couldn't help but look shocked as he turned to Emma Frost.

"No."

All eyes glanced to Erik before returning to the blond telepath, who remained transfixed on Magneto.

"You can find him yourself, I have no doubt," she intoned nonchalantly. "However, from Mr. McCoy's description, it sounds like time is of the essence. Yes, you could find him by yourself. But you could do it faster with me."

"She has a point," Sean chimed in.

"Sean!" Alex barked as everyone gawked.

"What? It's true! It would go faster with a telepath and it's not like Jean's up to it right now. I know we have our differences, but right now the professor might be in trouble. I think that should take precedence over everything else."

A tense silence followed before Erik put the map away and grabbed the papers listing coordinates. "Fine. You can come. No one else." He pointed at Mystique, then Alex as they opened their mouths to protest. "It's going to be difficult enough as it is without having to coordinate with others. We'll stay in contact. You'll hear as soon as we find anything."

As Magneto and the White Queen swept out of the mansion, Hank couldn't help but wonder if they'd done the right thing including the man who had so recently abandoned them. Jean put a hand on his arm.

"It's alright, Hank. He's just as worried as the rest of us. I can see it on his face."

Despite the distrust, they all knew it was true. Because regardless of the pair's ideological break, Erik and Charles still had a deep friendship. If anyone had the motivation and ability to find Charles, it was Erik Lehnsherr.

* * *

><p><em>I'm not an expert on the languages of India, but according to one of my books, Hindi and Punjabi are both used a fair amount and Punjabi is spoken towards the north of the country. That's what I went with. Sorry if it's wrong.<br>_

_No notable comic or movie spoilers in this chapter. I had to cut it in half, so all that starts up next chapter. Hopefully Alex, Hank, and Sean didn't seem out of character. In my way of thinking, they would have shifted into more authoritative figures once the younger kids came in. While they still have aspects of their younger personalities, they have to grow up somewhat, especially with Charles MIA. Yay character development!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: …the result uncertain, perhaps destructive (Walt Whitman, "Whoever you are now holding my hand")**

Azazel had dropped Erik and Emma off in the mountainous part of the search area Erik had determined from Hank's information. After that, the teleporter had left. Every inch of ground needed to be covered, which meant teleporting would do no good. They had begun in the mountains around the fuzzy coordinates Charles had found using Cerebro. Nothing of interest presented itself aside from a few caves, some of which were blocked off by rocks or bushes that showed no sign of human contact in the recent past. Emma didn't feel a strong presence, though she could tell Charles had been there are some point. Something about residual psionic energy that Erik didn't catch. There was only one main trail down from the mountains, which made it easier to track the telepath's probable movements. Once they got out of the mountains, though, a number of towns became possibilities. The best course of action was to start at the one to the west and move east until they found Charles.

Erik had to admit that having a telepathic henchman made the whole searching process infinitely easier. While her ability to tell if people had seen Charles by rummaging through their memories was helpful, what made Emma indispensable was when she unexpectedly began catching faint wisps of telepathic contact. Her best explanation for the dimness of the usually so powerful mind was that Charles was likely unconscious. In unconsciousness, the natural defenses he'd developed over the years would kick in and keep his mind blocked from any outside forces. Still, with only glances of telepathic contact, Emma could only narrow down Charles' location so much. She could tell whether they were getting closer (which they were, thankfully) and Erik took what assurance he could from that. Unconscious and in a town probably meant Hank had been correct in suggesting to check hospitals, so that was the course they took.

As they walked up to the third hospital in the fourth town (the second town had been more of a village with no hospital to speak of), Erik was losing the patience he long prided himself on. It had only been four days, but Charles had either not regained consciousness in those four days or he had kept his mind blocked off for reasons unknown. Erik liked neither of those options. The German had just started asking a nurse about unidentified patients who had come in when Emma stood straighter and uncharacteristically grabbed Erik's arm. He turned to her. Her diamond eyes glittered back.

"He's here. He's hurt. It's bad."

The nurse chose that moment to inform him of a John Doe who had come in after an accident in the mountains.

"He is in room 126. If you go and he turns out to be your friend, the doctor will inform you of his condition."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Erik and Emma were moving down the hall. Emma opened the door to room 126. Erik strode through without missing a beat, but stopped short once he took stock of the figure on the bed. Charles lay among the sterile while sheets, more pale than ever except for some stray bruises that were apparent on his face and arms. The only indication that he was alive was the steady rise and fall of his chest and the constant beep of a heart monitor.

"I don't know how it happened," Emma said from her position hovering at the door. "All I know is that he's-"

"Excuse me."

Erik would have strangled the man who interrupted Emma if he wasn't so obviously Charles' doctor.

"I'm Dr. Neelam," the man introduced holding his hand out. "The nurse tells my you came all the way from America and that you may be able to identify my patient?"

Erik hesitated, then gave the man's hand a short shake. "Yes. His name is Charles Xavier. What happened to him?"

Relief spread over the doctor's face. "We've been trying to identify him since he came in almost a week ago. He had no identifying papers on him, though, so we didn't have much to search with."

"What happened to him?" Erik repeated through gritted teeth. The young doctor was unphased by Erik's tone.

"Straight to the point then. As I said, your friend came in a little less than a week ago. We don't know the specifics of what occurred while he was in the mountains. A group of hikers found him and brought him in. He appeared to have been caught in a rock slide or cave in of some kind. He had a concussion, several bruised ribs, extensive bleeding, and his legs were crushed."

Erik tried not to let the doctor's clinical tone bother him.

"Has he been unconscious the whole time?"

"For the most part. He was delirious when he was brought in, babbling about the devil and how he'd underestimated him. He passed out shortly afterwards. We've been keeping him sedated following the surgery to try to control the damage done to his legs. Actually, today was the day we planned on lowering the sedative levels to see if he would wake up on his own."

"What kind of surgery?" Erik snapped.

The doctor paused for a beat, his clinical neutrality lost momentarily before reasserting itself. "The bones from below his pelvis down to his feet were badly damaged. We were trying to salvage the use of his legs."

Erik's chest tightened immediately. "Were you successful?"

Emma glanced away and Erik's stomach dropped before the doctor could even answer. He wanted to stop the man from speaking, as if not hearing the words spoken would keep it from being true...the mindset of a child.

The doctor gave a regretful smile. "I'm afraid not. Charles will never regain the use of his legs. For all intents and purposes, he's paralyzed."

The scrape of the chair on the floor was the only reason Erik knew he now occupied it as he otherwise found himself numb.

"I'm sorry to give you such unfortunate news. You're welcome to stay with him, of course. Nurse Voght will be in the check on him periodically as the sedative works its way out of his system. If he wakes, I'm sure he'll be happy to see a familiar face. You must care a great deal about him to have come all the way from America. He's lucky to have friends like you."

"He's my brother," Erik whispered, but the doctor had already whisked out of the room.

He remained in the chair, unfocused gaze falling on Charles' legs underneath the blankets. Emma hovered at the door as graceful as ever, as if she hadn't just spent days hiking through mountain towns of India.

"Magneto-"

Erik jerked out of the trance he'd been in, sat up straighter, and gave Emma an authoritative look. "Call the mansion. Tell them what happened. Then get Azazel to take you back."

"But-"

"I'm staying with him until he can go back to New York."

"Magneto, there are things we need to do-"

Erik's eyes flashed. "Then you'll do them without me for the time being. I'm staying."

Emma clearly wanted to argue, but knew to pick her battles with her new boss even after less than a year together. With a short nod and a look at Charles that was dangerously close to compassion, she was gone. Magneto fell away as soon as she disappeared, leaving Erik sitting in silence.

With the doctor and Emma gone, the news sunk in properly. A slew of memories washed over Erik unbidden. Charles running with Hank. Charles swimming to save him from drowning the first time they'd met. Charles walking with him side by side to retrieve Alex and Sean and the others. Erik flashed back to the days following Cuba. After Charles and Alex had sufficiently recovered, Sean and Raven had decided they needed to have a celebration. They had, after all, just averted a world war. That night there had been music and more drinking than Erik would prefer to admit. His fondest memory, though, was of Charles and Raven. They'd had a conversation in which Charles explained that, no, he didn't want Raven to hide her natural form. He thought she was beautiful as is and just wanted her to be safe. His reaction to her the night before Cuba was actually a sign of how much he cared for her because, really, who wanted to see someone they considered a sister naked? When she protested that her scales covered the important parts, he had silenced her by asking (in a perfect deadpan) what she would do if he started walking around with nothing but a skintight scaled loincloth on all the time. She scrunched her nose like a 5 year old at broccoli and conceded the point. Charles conceded as well, though, saying that he shouldn't have tried to suppress who she was. If she really wanted to walk around without clothes, he supposed he could try to acclimate to it...slowly. The two had become closer than ever. The night of the party, Raven had dragged Charles to the middle of the floor and they'd danced. It was as carefree as Erik had ever seen his friend as the telepath laughed and spun his sister to the music.

His smile at the memory faded as he flashed back to the chess match he and Charles had last played. Charles had walked away smiling, turning to give Erik one last wave before they parted ways. His throat tightened as he realized that was the last time we would ever see Charles walk. He looked down at the telepath in the bed, relaxed in unconsciousness for the time being, and wondered how on earth he was going to tell him he'd never walk again.

* * *

><p><em>That got a bit intense. The next chapter is more Charles, Erik, and Onslaught (yay!). I'll try to get it up sooner rather than later.<br>_

_Comic spoilers: In the comics, Charles is paralyzed in the Himalayas. More details on that in the next chapter ;) Also, the nurse that was mentioned in passing (Amelia Voght) had a part in the comics. I already had enough characters happening, so I didn't want to go into her story too much, but the name is from the comics, so that's that._

_Speaking of the paralysis, it made me sad, but it had to be done. One of the things that I love about Professor X is the contrast between his uber powerful mind and wheelchair-bound body. Despite the fact that he's in a wheelchair he's still one of the most powerful mutants on the planet, which makes him a thousand times more badass to me. So as much as I hated throwing a rock on his legs (and really, it was Marvel, not me), well, you get the idea. It just makes Charles a more impressive and inspiring character._


	6. Chapter 6

_To make up for this taking slightly longer than I thought it would to post, this chapter has a slightly larger word count than the others. The next chapter has quite a bit of organization yet to be done and I have to prep for a grad school interview, so I don't know how long it'll be. I'll do my best to have it up within the next 2 weeks, but no promises._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Let go your hand from my shoulders, Put me down, and depart on your way (Walt Whitman, "Whoever you are now holding my hand") <strong>

Hours passed. The nurse, Amelia as she'd told Erik to call her, came in several times to check on Charles. While Erik could tell no difference, she said he was showing signs of regaining consciousness.

Not long after that, the air in the room seemed to change. Erik sat up straighter. When he ventured a glance up, Charles' blue eyes blinked back at him.

"Charles," Erik said with a sigh of relief, "it's good to see you awake."

The telepath returned Erik's weak smile with an even weaker one before indicating the water that sat at the bedside. After a few sips, he apparently trusted his throat to speak.

"You were not who I was expecting to see when I woke."

"And who were you expecting?" Erik returned, tone light in an attempt to hide his disappointment.

"Honestly, if I woke at all, I was expecting to see Lucifer."

Disbelief and concern etched over Erik's features. The doctor had said Charles was babbling about the devil when he'd come in, but he'd been delirious at that point. What did it mean that he still held to the delusion? He cleared his throat, deciding the best course of action would be to continue to keep the tone light and gauge where Charles was from there.

"Of the two of us, I hardly expect you'll be the one to meet Lucifer upon death."

Charles' lips twitched into the trace of smile. "That wasn't quite what I meant. And, no, I'm not insane or brain-damaged. It's…a long story that I don't quite feel up to yet."

Erik released a silent sigh of relief, still carefully maintaining his stoic expression. "Why don't I fetch the doctor and-"

The magnokinetic began to stand, only to be stopped halfway when Charles grabbed his arm.

"Erik," Charles said softly. "I can't feel my legs." There was no anxiety in his voice, only a vague sense of resignation that hurt Erik to hear.

Erik slumped back into the chair. Despite trying for the past few hours to come up with a good way to break the news, he had come up with nothing. Apparently, his slump and silence was as good a confirmation as speaking the words. Charles took a shaky breath and looked down at his legs. An unreadable expression crossed his face before it was covered again by resignation, then neutrality in quick succession.

"I'm not going to walk again, am I?"

"I'm sorry, Charles. I'm so so sorry."

Charles took another breath, this time more steady, his expression remaining disturbingly unreadable for the usually so expressive telepath.

"Don't be. It was my own fault. I was stupid and arrogant to come on my own."

Erik almost flinched at the severity in Charles' voice. "Don't blame yourself, Charles. This wouldn't have happened if I had been here…if I hadn't left you and the mansion…"

Charles let out a short laugh, then winced. Erik frowned.

"Apparently the painkillers are a bit lower than I've grown accustomed to in unconsciousness. Nothing to grow concerned about. As to what would or wouldn't have happened if you hadn't left, I've told you before and I'll tell you again. We mustn't live in a world of 'what ifs'. Reality will not change. What is important is how we react to what has been handed to us. It doesn't matter what may have happened. It matters what did happen and what we do next."

"If you expect me to believe that, you're going to have to follow your own advice," Erik chided. "You cannot blame yourself for this...even if it was stupid and arrogant of you to come on your own."

Charles smiled, the closest to an earnest smile that Erik had seen yet. Erik sniffed out a laugh before noticing Charles shift and wince again.

"I'm going to get the doctor. He wanted to know when you woke."

Charles hesitated. "You…you'll come back afterwards, right?" When Erik turned back, the smile was gone from Charles' face, his eyes imploring. Erik had never seen the telepath so insecure.

"Yes, I'll come back as soon as the doctor is finished."

Erik stayed in the hall but within visual range as the doctor talked to Charles. He saw the telepath close his eyes and sigh, then nod a few times. Dr. Neelam put a comforting hand on Charles shoulder. Charles gave a pale imitation of a smile. Afterwards, the doctor stood and made his way into the hall to Erik.

"I've told him his condition and given him another dose of painkillers. He'll probably sleep soon. You're welcome to go back in and sit. You obviously know to call us if anything happens."

Erik was back in the room as soon as Neelam left him. True to the doctor's word, Charles was already blinking lazily. Erik took his seat by Charles side.

"Erik?" the telepath all but slurred.

"Yes, Charles?"

"Thank you for coming to find me."

If Erik did things like get choked up on emotion, he would have done so. But, obviously as the leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants, he didn't suffer such human reactions. The lump in his throat was clearly a reaction to something in the air…an allergy maybe.

"You're welcome," he replied. Charles was already asleep.

* * *

><p>He must have dozed off because the next thing he was aware of was jerking upright from his position slumped face down on the bed. He was trying to figure out what had woken him when he saw Charles staring at him. Unlike before, the telepath appeared fully alert and even seemed…what was that? Before he couldn't pinpoint the emotion, Charles spoke.<p>

"I have to say, I really didn't expect you to be the one to find me," Charles began with no trace of the exhaustion that had been apparent previously.

Erik's brow furrowed. "I don't- why not?"

Charles looked at Erik like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You left me. Abandoned the school and took my sister with you."

Erik blanched. "I didn't- I wasn't trying to- You're still my friend. I couldn't not come-" he stuttered out, caught completely off guard, still trying to bat away the cobwebs of sleep from his mind.

Charles laughed, actually laughed, and glared at Erik with a grin. "You think since we play chess once a month we're still friends? Please! You deserted us to fight against the very heart of my beliefs! Perhaps we maintain a friendship for now, but I assure you, if we stay on our respective paths we will not remain so for long."

Erik gaped. It didn't sound like something Charles would say to him in a time like this. In fact, that didn't sound like something Charles would say to him _ever_. Especially not with what Erik could now identify as amusement on his face. The German moved back and warily looked at the man next to him.

"Onslaught?"

The telepath grinned maliciously. "Hello Erik."

Erik steeled his expression, exuding as much authority and menace as he could pull together. "I go by Magneto now."

Onslaught burst out laughing, then settled himself. "Yes, right," he continued, laughter still in his voice as he met Erik's gaze straight on. "Hello Erik."

Magneto pursed his lips. "What do you want? How are you here?"

"You're asleep and the professor is on a ridiculous dosage of painkillers," Onslaught replied, unaffected by Erik's attempts at intimidation. "Drugs always make him a little zonky with the control, especially now that he's not fully sedated. Don't worry. I can't take over in the physical world. But I can certainly drop in and say hi to the one he's so bonded to." He spat the word "bonded" like a curse. Erik flinched back, just barely, but enough that Onslaught saw judging by the smug air he exuded.

"You've always fascinated me, Erik," Onslaught said, pushing his advantage. "Do you know why?"

"Why?" Erik asked tonelessly.

"Psionic energy."

Erik's brow furrowed. "That's what you were going to use to enslave everyone," he began. "What does it have to do with me? I thought only telepaths had it."

Onslaught raised a finger like a professor about to give his students the most important point of his lecture. "A commonly held belief, but not entirely true. Everyone possesses psionic energy. Telepaths have more, but nobody could live without it. The more powerful the telepath, the more psionic energy. Non-telepaths possess it, but in amounts so small it's barely worth mentioning."

"Yet here you are mentioning it. What does that have to do with me?"

"You, my dear friend," Onslaught said with a grin, "have more psionic energy than the average non-telepath."

That was not what Erik was expecting. Confusion overrode the abhorrence of speaking to Charles' doppelganger. "What does that mean?"

Onslaught gave a careless shrug. "I'm not sure. Charles has always been baffled by it. The best explanation we could come up with is that it has to do with your abilities. The energy you possess and manipulate when you use your powers…well science has told us that electromagnetic fields impact brain activity to a degree. Perhaps our powers are more closely related than we thought."

Erik paused, glaring at Onslaught, trying to gauge the entity's intentions. Onslaught remained apathetic as ever. Erik finally gave up. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because it fascinates me and I want to see if you'll do anything with the knowledge."

"So, what, you're just telling me as some kind of experiment?"

"Yes."

The two stared at one another, Erik glaring at Onslaught's amusement.

"I'm not going to let myself be manipulated by you. You're trying to distract me...giving me useless information to keep me from focusing on my goals. It won't work."

Onslaught gave a casual shrug. "Suit yourself."

"Why are you here?" Erik grit out between clinched teeth, unable to contain the frustration bubbling at the surface.

"Why are any of us here?" the entity replied airily without missing a beat.

"Onslaught-"

"You know, I told him this would happen," the telepath began, suddenly serious. "I told him you would leave him...that you didn't really care about him."

"That's not true! He's my friend!" Erik shouted, reacting before he could stop himself from rising to Onslaught's obvious ruse.

Onslaught gave a mocking wince. "Are you sure? Because I don't think a friend would have abandoned Charles to run his school and search for mutants and get his legs smashed in."

Erik slumped forward as if he'd had the breath physically knocked out of him

"It wasn't my fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. He doesn't blame me."

"Yes, and there's the rub."

Erik couldn't stop the puzzled look that crossed his face. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I am, correct?"

"The personification of Charles' suppressed desires," Erik replied slowly.

"Exactly. Everything that he's ever wanted to do but hasn't…that's what I am. Here's the kicker. He never blamed you for this. Not once. The thought didn't even cross his mind. Very logical and all that." Onslaught paused, his smiled tinged with the slightest bit of confusion, a rare occurrence. "Yet I do."

Erik looked at Onslaught blankly.

"In my way of thinking, if you hadn't left, we'd probably still have use of our legs. I blame you for what happened, even though Charles never did."

Erik kept staring at Onslaught, the barest traces of comprehension beginning to show themselves. "You…you're starting to think for yourself."

The glint in Onslaught's eyes increased. "You thought I was bad with Charles as my master. Just imagine what I could do without him."

With that, Erik shot up from his position slumped beside Charles' bed. The image of Onslaught's flaring eyes still fresh on his mind as he stared at the still sleeping figure before him.

* * *

><p>Charles woke hours later. Even through the drugs, he caught the wary manner in which Erik was looking at him.<p>

"What's wrong, my friend?"

"It's…nothing." Now was not the time to talk about Onslaught. Not when there were so many other issues to address. "We can worry about it later."

Erik gave Charles ample time to wake up fully, get checked over by Amelia, and drink some water before settling in again.

"Are you up to talking now?"

Charles shifted a bit, evaluating. "Yes, I think I am."

"What happened to you?" Erik asked, trying not to sound like he'd been dying to ask. He failed.

"What do you know?"

"Not much. You went searching for a mutant. A few days later a group of hikers found you injured and brought you here. Dr. Neelam said you were rambling about the devil before you fell unconscious."

Charles nodded. "I sensed a mutant, a very powerful mutant, in the mountains here. It took me a little while, but eventually I pinpointed him to a cave in the Himilayas, a few miles from here from what I can tell. I tracked him down, tried to talk to him. Clearly I underestimated him. He saw me as a threat. When I tried to leave, he caused the cave to collapse. That's the last I remember. I guess one of the larger rocks crushed my legs. I don't remember the hikers who found me, nor do I remember being brought here. I suppose I was rather delirious by then though, so that's not a shock. I should never have come. At the very least, I should have left when he told me."

Erik wanted to agree. Charles was always more stubborn than was good for him, but there was no need to let Charles beat himself up. "You couldn't have known what he would do."

"No, but that he introduced himself as Lucifer should perhaps have tipped me off that he wasn't the best of characters."

"His name was Lucifer?" Erik asked with disbelieving eyes.

"Yes. I suppose that explains why people thought I was rambling about the devil when I came in."

"That would explain it. What did he look like?"

"Not like I would imagine Lucifer looks like if that's what your asking. You still have the advantage in the mutants-who-look-demonic field."

Erik let himself grin at that and tried to decide whether Azazel would be amused or offended by the comment. Not that he'd be able to tell either way. The teleporter was better at masking his expressions than anyone he'd seen, himself and Emma Frost included.

"What about you? How did you find me?"

"When you stopped contacting Westchester, Hank and the others panicked from what I can tell. They tried a number of different avenues to find you, but had no success. Their last resort aside from physically coming to search the whole of northern India was to put Jean in Cerebro."

Charles' eyes widened in panic. "Good heavens, is she alright?"

"She's fine. A little worse for wear, but she managed to send out the equivalent of a telepathic distress signal. Emma picked it up, we went to Westchester, and I tracked you here."

"If Jean was able to handle Cerebro, I've been underestimating her abilities. I suppose I'll have my hands full with training when I get back."

"So it would seem," Erik replied. '_Among other things_,' he thought to himself, hoping Charles missed his glance towards the wheelchair now sitting in the corner.

* * *

><p>In a matter of days, Charles was ready to be transferred to New York. The telepath was visibly relieved to be heading back to familiar ground, though he thanked the hospital staff profusely. The facility would no doubt be receiving a large donation in the near future. For all of Charles' enthusiasm, the telepath found Erik was surprisingly reluctant.<p>

"It'll be good to be home," Charles began. "I suppose you'll be needing to get back to your Brotherhood. I do appreciate you staying as long as you have. I know you probably had other things you'd been planning on doing."

"It's fine," Erik replied, distantly. After a beat of silence, he focused on Charles again, looking concerned. "Will you be alright? Without me?"

"I'll be fine. I have plenty of people to help me adjust to my new circumstances."

Erik gave a skeptical look.

Charles chuckled. "Not that I don't appreciate your company and not to downplay how much I value our friendship, but what did you picture happening? Did you think I would fall apart like a lovesick teenager when you left? I'm much stronger than that. I lived happily a long time before you came into my life and I will continue to do so in our separation. Of course I miss you. I miss our chess games, our talks, sharing the load of the school. But I do not depend on those things to maintain suitable levels of happiness. You are still in my life and while we fight, like most brothers do, we still clearly value one another. It's obvious we cannot be on the same side. I will accept our present situation as a suitable alternative. You would not come back to the mansion and I would not want you to. If you did, you would be pretending to be someone you're not. I could never ask that of you and would never hope to see it."

"You seem very sure of yourself," Erik said, though he was more at ease than before.

Charles smiled brightly. "A man's own manner and character is what most becomes him."

"Quoting Cicero, Charles? Really?"

"Plato just didn't seem right for the occasion."

Erik smiled and shook his head. "You really will be okay." He sounded much surer this time.

"Indeed I will be. I'm sure it won't be the easiest of transitions, but I am part of the next stage of evolution. If I can't adapt, what kind of mutant would I be?"

The two mutants laughed as they left the hospital to board the plane back to reality.

* * *

><p><em>Comics spoilers: Once Charles gets to India after separating from Magneto, he encounters Lucifer. Lucifer throwing a rock on Charles' legs is what cripples him. Lucifer is also an alien and there's a whole alien invasion subplot. I chose not to go that direction, if you didn't notice. WAY too much for me to explain. Whole new can of worms. So I made Lucifer a mutant and tweaked some details. I hope everyone is okay with not having an alien invasion storyline.<em>

_Just that you know, I actually have no knowledge of psionic energy other than the few times I've seen in mentioned in the comics. Thus, all the stuff that I'm saying about it comes from my head unless I'm having source memory issues.  
><em>

_There are so many stories where Charles is all broken up about Erik leaving, and that's totally cool, cause I love those angsty stories as much as the next person, but I also like it when Charles is reasonably upset but doesn't have his life totally devastated by losing Erik. He's a strong guy. He can take it. That's why he's cool with Erik being gone in my story._


	7. Chapter 7

_I'm so so so so sorry about the delay. In my defense, there's a lot going on right now and this chapter was super stubborn and just did NOT want to be written. Forgive me if it's a little choppy. I wanted to get it out. Good news: I got a fair amount of writing done on the plane to and from my grad school interview, so updates shouldn't be quite as far between as the past couple have been. I'm barreling towards the writing stage of my thesis, so, again, I make no promises, but there's hope._

_I feel terrible that I haven't thanked my lovely reviewers enough. You guys have been consistent and amazing and I really, truly appreciate it! You'll get more thanks later, but since I didn't get around to replying to the last round of reviews, I wanted to give my thanks here._

_We've got another time jump. I note it through the story, but I'll put up here too. What I consider the present is 2 years after Charles' paralysis. Anything happening in that present is going to be in regular font. Italics are used for flashbacks to events/recollections of events throughout the two years between the paralysis and the present. So, in sum:_

Regular font = present

_Italics_ = flashback/recollection/description of the past (between Charles' paralysis and the present)

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Oh simple thing, where have you gone? (Keane, "Somewhere Only We Know")<strong>

The next two years were full of ups and downs for both sides.

Erik and Charles had fallen into a stiff routine. Neither were sure whether that was a good thing or not. They didn't know when the tension that pervaded their monthly chess matches had grown to the level it had. It must have creeped in, like a vine of ivy that goes unnoticed until one day it covers the side of a house, a result of the growing number of skirmishes between their respective groups.

And so it was when the pair met two years following Charles' encounter with Lucifer. Despite the tension, Erik still marveled at how well Charles had taken to being wheelchair bound. He maneuvered the pathway to their usual chess table with the ease and confidence he used to walk with. It hadn't been that simple, Erik knew. Charles kept mum about the adjustments that had been made in the mansion. His silence was more telling than anything he could've said.

In truth, despite the optimism he put on in public, it took Charles longer than he'd hoped to adjust to life post-paralysis. He accepted it and knew it didn't make him any less powerful, but it didn't make it any easier to suddenly lose the use of his legs. He struggled the first few months. He had no idea how he would have gotten through it if he hadn't had the students. They worked diligently to wheelchair-proof the mansion, making it part of their training. He made certain he kept his difficulties tucked away whenever he met up with Erik. Everyday tasks had grown easier over time. He'd gained impressive upper body strength, demonstrated by his ability to maneuver his chair with a grace he could see Erik's admiring as he rolled up to his usual place at the chess table.

"Hello, Erik," the telepath began with a polite smile.

"Hello, Charles," Erik answered, following their usual script. "You're looking well."

"As are you. How is Raven?"

Even though Charles never failed to ask about Raven, Erik still felt some level of relief to actually hear the concern behind the carefully neutral question. The adoptive siblings had grown far more distant than Erik and Charles since leaving Westchester.

* * *

><p><em>Everyone felt it the first time Charles saw Mystique kill and they saw it on her face when she realized he had. Skirmishes between the Brotherhood and X-Men had escalated quickly. One particularly violent confrontation occurred at a warehouse where a number of humans were present. Charles sat off to the side, having been attempting to talk matters out before his students had managed to shift him to a comparatively safe position as the fighting began in earnest. Everything was a mess of punches and powers, then a mental jolt ran through everyone, even the Brotherhood members present. Everything came to a halt. Charles' expression was indescribable as he watched his sister standing over the fallen man whose neck was freshly snapped. The expression she returned was equally broken. For the first time in years, she was truly terrified of what another person thought of her. Their relationship was irrevocably changed from that point on. Charles stopped calling her Raven. For all her insistence that he call her Mystique, she had no idea how much it would hurt when he actually did. Out of sight, Onslaught's eyes burned a little brighter as a part of Charles died with the man laying at Mystique's feet.<em>

* * *

><p>Charles had only recently resumed calling Mystique by her human name. Even then, it didn't sound quite the same as it had before.<p>

"She's fine," Erik replied, pretending that neither of them had flashed back to that day. "She and Azazel are growing…closer. I suspect it's due to their unique skin tones."

"I'm glad she's doing well." Charles frowned and obviously ignored the information pertaining to Azazel. Instead, he raised the chess set on his lap. "Shall I set up?"

Erik gave a nod and the pair began their match.

* * *

><p><em>The best times for the leaders of the two mutant factions were their monthly chess matches in the park in Westchester. Because whatever good, bad, painful, or thrilling events happened in the weeks between, Erik was still the only person Charles could talk freely about anything he wished and Charles was still Erik's only true friend. Even Mystique, a trusted ally, was still seen as Charles' sister above everything else. The pair would sit in the park for hours, laughing and mocking each other. Early on, Erik wondered if this was what having a brother felt like. Charles wondered the same because, surely, Cain Marko couldn't be a good hash mark by which to judge a good brother.<em>

* * *

><p>They made it all the way through their first game and halfway through the second before they started talking business. Once again, it seemed almost as if the two were following a script. Insert banter here. Throw backhanded compliment here. Charles was the one who shifted the pattern.<p>

"And how is Victor Creed settling in?" he asked far too casually for it not to be forced.

* * *

><p><em>Victor Creed had come to the Westchester school a few months after Charles' paralysis. Charles had seen him as a challenge, probably in the same vein as Erik had been when the two first met. There was so much pain and anger in his past that the telepath couldn't help but make the comparison. Still trying to come to terms with his paralysis, he threw himself into attempting to rehabilitate the burly mutant from the traumas he'd suffered. In spite of Charles' best efforts, Creed left after a few months. He disappeared off the radar until recently when he'd made his grand reappearance as part of the Brotherhood. It had been a huge blow to Charles, who not only saw his failure to help Creed, but also reignited his feelings of failure at pacifying the rage within a certain magnokinetic.<em>

* * *

><p>Erik smirked. "You tried to tame him."<p>

"I tried to rehabilitate him," Charles corrected.

"You tried to _tame_ him," Erik reiterated. "He's a mutant, Charles, not an animal."

"That's debatable," the telepath grumbled. Erik ignored him.

"Mutants can't be tamed or controlled. Why do you even try?"

"Thank you, Erik," Charles replied stiffly, "but that's quite enough of that." After a beat, suspicion crossed the telepaths' face. "You didn't answer my question. How is he settling in?"

Erik grimaced. Count on Charles to pick up on exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. "Actually, he left," he admitted.

"Did he?" said Charles, considerably more satisfied. "I thought his particular form of violence was absent from your last outing. Far too many humans were left with their limbs intact. What were you doing anyway, gathering metals and construction material? Aiming to build a summer home perhaps?"

"Why does it not surprise me that you know exactly what we were after and who of my team was or wasn't present even though you weren't there? You were busy at the time looking presentable for a camera, if I recall."

"Hmm, why does it not surprise me that you know exactly when I have television appearances with prominent journalists scheduled?"

"Too busy to be bothered to send your X-Men to stop us?"

"Well, I can't spend every second of every day thwarting you. I wouldn't want you to get disheartened that my band of naïve students routinely keeps your army of well-trained soldiers from their goals."

Erik made a dissatisfied grunt that signaled the end of that line of conversation. The silence lasted for the next five moves.

"You know, I won't let the registration bill pass. I'll stop it by any means necessary."

Charles sighed. "You won't have to. In spite of who is backing said bill, I've been assured it won't pass."

* * *

><p><em>William Stryker, Jr. sat at his desk looking at the blue-eyed telepath with an unreadable expression.<em>

"_Professor Xavier, we've known each other since 1962. You've met consistently with both me and my father. You can read my mind. You know how I feel about your kind. Do you think you can change my mind?" _

"_It seemed to be working for a while. You were more open to us, particularly more open than your father." _

_Stryker smoothed down an errant piece of his barely graying hair. "How do I know that wasn't you messing with my head?" _

"_I don't do that-" _

"_Don't give me that bull. How will anyone ever know it's the truth? I've seen what you can do. I've seen what all of your kind can do. You're a danger to society Professor, you and all your little mutants, and I intend to put a stop to it."_

"_It would seem we're done here then," the professor responded tersely._

"_It would seem so," Stryker sneered back._

_Stryker watched through his window as Xavier exited the building. He couldn't hear what he said to the blond who was assisting him, but it was quick. With practiced ease, Xavier shifted into the car. The blond loaded the chair into the car and the two left the base for the last time._

_Alex glanced uneasily at the professor as he drove._

"_He's a lost cause, isn't he?"_

"_Indeed he is, but don't lose heart. We have allies elsewhere with far more influence than William Stryker. He won't be a problem."_

_Alex said nothing as he drove through the rural roads back to Westchester._

* * *

><p>"While we're discussing recent developments," Charles began offhandedly, "Carl Maddicks is working for you. Why?"<p>

Erik gaped. "How did you hear about that? We've kept him completely under the radar."

"He's one of Hank's old colleagues. A friend of a friend mentioned his disappearance. We put the rest together."

"Of course," Erik grimaced in irritation.

"What are you doing with him? He's a bad character according to Hank."

"To your standards, yes. To mine, he's perfect."

"I'm growing tired dancing around the point. What are you up to, Erik?"

"You'll just have to wait to find out like the rest of the world."

Charles narrowed his eyes as he felt a flash of annoyance from Onslaught. Erik looked torn between being entertained that he'd gotten a rise out of Charles and concerned that something so simple had caused Onslaught to flare up. Concern won out, a rarity, when he saw some of the chess pieces had spontaneously tipped over.

"How's Onslaught, Charles?" Erik asked, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. "Still behaving?"

Charles' lips pressed into a thin line. "I think it's time I take my leave. Until next time."

* * *

><p><em>With the sadness and the pain came happiness. Jean and Scott were officially a couple after dancing around it for what easily felt like a century. New mutants were thriving at the school as they mastered their powers. Erik found unexpected camaraderie within his Brotherhood. Emma Frost was a surprisingly good ally now that she'd shaken off Shaw's influence. The smile Mystique tried to hide the first time Charles called her Raven again after months of refusing, was radiant. He was the only being on the planet given the privilege. Everyone took happiness when and where they could find it. After all, when one is constantly at odds with friends, happiness must be found anywhere it might be hiding.<em>

* * *

><p>Charles sat with Onslaught a few nights later playing chess in their usual positions.<p>

"He's planning something," Onslaught said as his slid his rook to the left. "Something bad. The time is coming when you're going to have to make a choice between freeing me or letting him finish what Shaw couldn't."

Charles remained silent, contemplating his next move. "He asked after you."

The volley was met with an eye roll. "Of course he did. What did you say?"

"That you were on your best behavior," he said sarcastically. "I'm sure he didn't believe me for some reason. Imagine that."

Onslaught laughed. "Yes, imagine that," the entity echoed as he moved his queen. "Check."

Charles contemplated the board and slid his king to safety before lifting his gaze to his doppelganger. "Really though, you've been very good as of late. Why are you being so cooperative?"

"I'm simply waiting to see how things play out. As Alex noted on that blasted Cuban beach, all it takes is getting the upper hand once. I will find my opportunity. I will take it and you will not be able to stop me. Until then, there's no reason we can't enjoy each other's company."

"I seem to recall you getting the opportunity once and me soundly defeating you."

"Indeed you did. But that's the thing about me. I won't go away. And I'm quite capable of learning from my mistakes." The chess game between them sat forgotten as Onslaught leaned forward, exuding far more menace than Charles ever though his face capable of. "You'd better learn to control me, dear Charles. Because if you don't, I will most certainly learn how to control you."

Onslaught glanced back down at the board and smirked. He moved his queen, then raised his triumphant gaze back up to Charles who hadn't so much as blinked.

"Checkmate."

When Charles woke, he locked Onslaught away and vowed never to visit him again. It didn't stop the unnerving sense of superiority Charles could feel projecting from the entity somewhere in the depths of his mind.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Notes:<em>**

_I know exactly nothing about chess. What I do know is due to Wikipedia. I assume the vague moves that I reference can move the game along the way I had it happen._

_Comics spoilers: Carl Maddicks is, in fact, an old colleague of Hank's who ended up being less than stellar in the morality category. Charles' failure to rehabilitate Victor Creed also occurred in the comics._

_Movie spoilers: William Stryker, Sr. was in XFC. I don't know how old he was cause I haven't seen the movie since June of last year, but I'm going with him being old enough to have a son who is around 40ish in the form of William Stryker, Jr., who appeared in X2. I know I'm making him older than he would've been in the 1960s, but this is my story and that's how it's gonna work._

_Reviews?_


	8. Chapter 8

_Warning: Offscreen child abuse._

_This is longer than I intended, but there was no good place to cut it. This is the point where things start happening in rapid succession. Hopefully you won't mind things developing quickly, but I feel like it's reflective of how life is sometimes. You sit and wait and wait for something to happen then all of a sudden something happens and dominoes._

_Thank you icanhearthedrums and Jessica for your reviews!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Unnatural Selection (Muse, "Unnatural Selection")<strong>

"_Most of the legislation involving mutants comes at the reports and recommendation of one Colonel William Stryker, Jr., who we have with us here today. Colonel, what can you tell us about-"_

"Turn that trash off!" Alex yelled in disgust.

The tv turned off.

* * *

><p>Jean Grey had felt off for a while now. It had started after Cerebro. Just before Hank turned off the machine, she'd felt one last burst of energy. When she'd come back to herself after everything was shut down, Scott holding her shoulders and shouting, the feeling had disappeared. After that, she'd had to recover, then deal with everyone's feeling about the Brotherhood being around, then deal with the knowledge of Charles' injury and making the necessary adjustments in time for his return.<p>

It hadn't come back all at once, the feeling that she'd sensed in the machine. But little by little, especially as she developed further control over her telekinesis and expanded her telepathy, she could feel something sparking in her mind. Not wanting to worry anyone, she mostly asked not-so-hypothetical hypothetical questions during group discussions of mental-based abilities. It didn't seem too out of place, since she was training to teach the telepathy and mind-based abilities class that had recently been added to the curriculum. She'd been sure Professor Xavier hadn't been onto her until she caught him giving her a probing look after one such question. The feelings had been growing stronger and, no matter how much she tried to deny it, she knew there might be something wrong. After all, just because you don't see a dentist doesn't mean you don't have a cavity.

She found the professor sitting at his desk grading papers. She knocked softly, though she was 99% sure he was already aware of her presence. He didn't like to flaunt how telepathically aware he was. It tended to freak people out, but as a telepath herself, she knew just how difficult it was to block out those around you. He, of course, had more practice than she did, but he was also significantly more powerful, thus had more to block out. He gave her a gentle smile.

"Come in, Jean. I suspected you'd be in to see me."

"Yes. I…wanted to talk to you about something."

"Of course. Does it have anything to do with the questions you've been asking in class?"

"It does."

"Sit down." He gestured to the couch while maneuvering himself across from her and setting his tea on the coffee table between them. "What's been troubling you?"

* * *

><p>Hank hurried down the hall towards Charles' study, eager to share his newest strategy for uncovering how Carl Maddicks' work could contribute to the Brotherhood. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't hear the second voice in Charles' study until he was right outside. He stopped just short of the door.<p>

"Ever since I used Cerebro, I've felt something…like there's something else with me."

"What do you mean?" Charles said. Hank heard the suspicion behind the professor's voice, but Jean obviously didn't judging by her lack of hesitation in continuing.

"It's like…fire. But it doesn't hurt. It's just there. Under the surface. Almost like it's waiting for something. For me to be ready." Jean had a distant look on her face. She blinked back to reality, faltering as she read the concern on her mentor's face. "What does it mean, Professor?"

"I'm not sure. Keep aware and keep me informed. I'm sure it's nothing we can't take care of. Perhaps residual from Cerebro."

The girl let out a slow breath in relief. "Thank you."

"You can come in now, Hank," Charles said, louder than before. "We're finished."

Hank jumped, then kicked himself for eavesdropping on two telepaths. He came in the room and met Jean and Charles' amused smiles with suitable shame in his posture.

"Um, sorry Professor. I was thinking we could talk about what Carl Maddicks was researching and compare it to materials the Brotherhood has been procuring. Perhaps if we could identify commonalities, we could piece together what they're planning. I can come back later, though, if you need to talk more."

"Nonsense, that's an excellent idea!" Charles exclaimed, no trace of reprimand for eavesdropping in his tone. "Jean, if you wouldn't mind, I'll join Hank in his labs."

"Of course. Thank you again, Professor."

"Come talk to me with any more concerns."

Jean swept out of the room, no doubt off to join Scott and Ororo for some Saturday activities on the grounds.

"Professor, I'm sorry-"

"Just a moment, Hank."

Hank stopped short in confusion as Charles steepled his fingers and rested his head on his hands. His eyes closed and his brow furrowed in concentration. After a few moments of awkward silence, the telepath sat up again.

"To the lab then, shall we?"

"Um, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly were you doing just then?"

Charles paused and met Hank's gaze. The scientist got the distinct impression he was being judged.

"Anything I tell you will stay between us. Is that understood?"

"Of course," Hank replied. The seriousness of his mentor's expression had him even more confused than before.

"Cerebro appears to have…awakened something within Jean. I'm not sure what precisely it is, nor am I sure of its purpose. We both sense something different. She was inquiring as to what we should do about it."

Hank was taken aback by the information. He hadn't considered anything like this as a potential repercussion from allowing Jean to use Cerebro. "Is it like Onslaught?"

"From what I can tell, no. We should be cautious, however. I've put a wall between Jean's mind and whatever the presence is. Hopefully, that will deter it from further manifesting."

"I could take a look if you want me to. Run some scans and see if there are similarities between the scans we took after you were possessed by Onslaught."

Charles gave a small smile. "Thank you, Hank. I may suggest that to Jean in the future. For now, I believe he have other concerns to address."

Hank nodded. As they walked, he couldn't help but feel at least partially responsible for whatever was happening with Jean. He'd encouraged her to use Cerebro and that was apparently what had set it off. But, like the professor said, there were other things to worry about right now. With that in mind, he reorganized his mental list, moving Jean further down and returning his attention to Carl Maddicks and the problem at hand.

* * *

><p>Charles and Hank tried with great difficulty to figure out what the machine Erik was obviously building would do. Despite their considerable combined brain power, they were stumped and Erik was stubbornly silent about it during his chess matches with Charles.<p>

Then Senator Kelly showed up at their doorstep and proceeded to liquefy in front of a very shaken Ororo 8 hours later. From the image and feelings Charles was able to pull from the man's head before his abrupt death, Hank was able to put the pieces together.

"He's trying to speed up evolution," Hank said in quiet horror. "His educational background is similar to my own. He knows how mutations work. If I was able to come up with a serum that accelerated my own mutation in 1962…well, he's had years to develop his own means of doing the same and use his engineering expertise to create a mechanism to spread it that Magneto could utilize. He's built a machine that will do just that. It alters the fundamental structure of the body."

"They're trying to make everybody a mutant," Charles said with wide eyes.

"But it won't work," Hank stated emphatically. "The human body isn't ready for evolution that quickly. The cells will accept the mutation for a time, a couple of days maybe, but then they'll start to break down until…"

"Until anybody exposed to the machine ends up like Senator Kelly."

"We can't let that happen. It's horrible. I don't care if they're anti-mutant or not, nobody deserves to die like that," Ororo stated firmly. The girl had stayed with the senator as he died, trying her best to make him comfortable, reassuring him to the last. Charles was immensely proud of her for remaining so strong after she had burst into the lab near hysterics telling him that the senator was dead.

They didn't have much time to recover from that particular revelation. Not two hours later, a sharp spike of fear and pain lanced through Charles' mind before being abruptly cut off. The resulting gasp had Hank by his mentor's side in seconds.

"Something's wrong," Charles managed to choke out.

Hank got the ashen telepath some water. Just as he started sipping it, Jean stumbled into the lab sobbing with a dazed Scott.

"What's happened?" Charles asked as he pulled himself together.

"A child! He was just a child!" Jean managed to hiccup out between sobs.

Charles' eyes widened and he looked to Scott.

"A little boy," the mutant said with a shaky voice. "We think he was trying to make it to the mansion. We'd seen him in town a few times. He was always so excited to see us…"

"Scott, what happened?" Charles said calmly.

"They beat him. He was a mutant and they beat him for it. An eight-year-old boy."

Hank and Ororo stood dumbfounded while Charles closed his eyes in a wince before he relaxed his face in the way he did when he stretched his mind out. After a moment, he nodded and opened his eyes. "It's horrible and will need to be dealt with later. Right now, we have to consider Erik's plan and stop him. The child is at the hospital being taken care of. There's nothing further we can do for him now."

"But-"

"The professor's right," Hank interrupted. "We have to prioritize. What happened to the child is horrible, but he will survive. The Brotherhood is going to attempt to turn humans into mutants and it's going to kill them instead. That must be the priority."

While still shaken, the others nodded.

"Should I gather everyone?" Ororo asked.

Charles pulled his fingers back from his temple before the others even registered he'd moved them there. "I've told those not present that we're to meet in 10 minutes. I expect you all to be there as well."

Exactly ten minutes later, Hank, Alex, Sean, Warren, Bobby, Jean, Scott, and Ororo were moving restlessly around their usual meeting room. Charles was already positioned at the head of the long table and waited with hands clasped for the others to settle.

Warren's wings seemed to be folded even lower, reminiscent of a cat approaching a perceived threat with its ears down. "So the Brotherhood is going to try to turn a bunch of humans into mutants, but it's going to kill all the humans instead."

"Not all of them," Hank interjected. "In all likelihood, a few of them will be predisposed to accept the mutation."

"But the majority will die," Sean clarified. "I really don't think now is the time to take the glass-half-full perspective on what happens if we fail."

Charles nodded. "Sean's right. We need to keep the importance of this mission in mind. Our failure to stop the Brotherhood won't just result in a few bits of metal or currency being taken. It will end in the deaths of an untold number of innocent individuals, depending upon what they decide to target."

Ice that had formed under Bobby's hands cracked as he shifted at the table. The formation of ice under duress, whether in battle or during a biology exam, was an unconscious habit Charles had been working to break him of. He'd achieved enough control in battle to become an official member of the X-Men almost a year ago. Anxiety over other matters was a whole different story. "How do we know where and when they're going to do this? We can't do anything if we don't know where they'll be and when they'll be there."

After a thoughtful pause, Hank picked up again. "That they tested it on someone of importance indicates that they're nearly ready. Senator Kelly would've been their final test. Is there anything happening within the week where prominent people would be gathering?"

Silence wafted around the room again as everyone evaluated possibilities. Charles inhaled sharply. "There's a gala tomorrow night. Erik mentioned it offhand a couple of times, asking if I'd be in attendance. He acted like he was just teasing me over high society events, but there will be a number of politicians and well-known individuals there. It's tomorrow night in…" Charles trailed off, hands tightening on his chair.

"In what?" Alex asked somewhat louder than was necessary. "Where is it being held?"

The telepath raised eyes filled with barely-contained horror. "New York City in the Theater District."

"New York City?" Hank choked out. "But the population there…"

"-is way more people than just the ones the Brotherhood is targeting," Sean finished for the scientist. "Would they really risk that many people?"

"They think their machine works," Ororo chimed in. "They don't know Senator Kelly is dead."

"Would it stop them if they did?" Alex asked.

The question was met with silence. That Charles didn't know how to answer was almost more painful than the question itself.

"That's not the point." Charles hoped his relief at Warren's interruption wasn't evident to the others. Considering the dark path the Brotherhood, and thus Erik and Raven, was going down…that was yet another matter he would have to deal with later. Unaware of the telepath's turmoil, Warren continued. "Where would they keep the machine? I went to plenty of those high society shindigs growing up. The Theater District doesn't have any place where they could keep something like that. New York City is a big place."

"What about the Lower East Side?" Scott asked. "There are a few abandoned buildings where they could hide. It's close enough to the Theater District that they wouldn't be risking their target being out of range."

"So, what, we wander around the Lower East Side asking people if they've seen a guy in a cape and helmet working on a giant metal machine?"

"Actually," Charles said as he raised an eyebrow at Alex's tone, "I was thinking you could fly me over the area so that I could sense the minds of the non-helmeted members of the Brotherhood. Miss Frost isn't expecting me. She won't be blocking them. Even if she does, it would be like putting police tape up. I won't be able to get in, but I'll know they're there."

"So we have a plan?" Jean asked.

Charles gave a short nod. "I think we do."

"What if they aren't actually there? What if they have some other target?" Bobby flexed his fingers, a sign that he was trying to contain his powers.

The telepath met Bobby's questioning gaze with purposeful shrug. "Then we'll have taken a gamble and lost. But I know of no other events that would be as lucrative as this one for Erik to target. It would be far better for us to go and be wrong than not go and have been right." Nods signaled agreement from all at the table. "We'll find them and destroy the machine. Everyone prepare as need be. We leave tomorrow."

* * *

><p>A few states away, Magneto and his Brotherhood unknowingly mirrored Charles and his X-Men. Though the room was considerably danker than Charles' homey mansion, the taciturn group was seated around a table listening intently as their leader outlined the mission that would be the culmination of several months of missions and years of planning.<p>

"The plan is simple. I will power Dr. Maddicks' the machine while you all protect the perimeter from stray humans and…unexpected guests. I have no doubt that Charles will have somehow figured all this out so be ready. If he's there, you will all subdue his X-Men while I set the machine up.

"It will drain you, Magneto," Maddicks cut in. "Trying to produce a wave of the magnitude and range you're aiming for might kill you. We could find that mutant girl. You could transfer your power to her and-"

"No!" Those surrounding the table jumped as Magneto slammed his palm down. Maddicks snapped his mouth shut. "I will not sacrifice another mutant, much less a child. It hasn't killed me yet, but if someone is to die in this machine, it will be me."

Mystique chose that moment to stride into the room. She was already aware of the plan. Her task was to keep an eye on her former home for any indication that the X-Men were onto their plan. She was pale as her golden eyes met Magneto's.

"What's wrong? Do they know?"

"There was no movement that Emma or I could see, but our trip was cut short." The mutant exhaled as she gathered herself. "A child was beaten a few miles away from Charles' mansion. He was a mutant. He's currently in critical condition."

"A student?" Magneto kept the quiver from his voice as the faces of the children he'd helped in his time at Westchester flashed before his eyes.

"No. A boy from the town nearby."

Tension sliced through the room and blanketed everyone as they turned tentatively to see Magneto's reaction. The mutant took a few heavy breaths then addressed the room with fists clinched. "Everybody get ready. We initiate the plan tomorrow night."

* * *

><p><em>Comics spoilers: A mutant child is killed within a few miles of the school. I couldn't take it quite that far and I had a hard enough time having a child beaten, but it sort of comes into play later so it had to be done.<em>

_Movie spoilers: Senator Kelly liquefies due to his body's inability to accept what the machine Magneto used on him did. The other mutant they could potentially use is a reference to Rogue._

_I know Magneto didn't use himself in the machine in X1. I felt like it was far too early in his development as Magneto to have him willing to sacrifice a young mutant for his cause in place of himself. Plus, he's still pretty spry here, so it shouldn't be quite as much of an issue._

_Members of X-Men: I chose them based on some of the prominent characters in the movies (Jean, Scott, Ororo, Hank, Sean, Alex) and the members of the original X-Men in the comics (Scott, Jean, Hank, Bobby, Warren)._

_Just a warning, two (comparatively short) chapters left in this story, then I shift to the second sequel._


	9. Chapter 9

****_Forgive any mistakes. There's a lot going on and I really wanted to get this out there before it got lost in the masses of my to-do list._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Pay my respects to grace and virtue, send my condolences to good (The Killers, "Human")<strong>

It didn't take long for Charles to sense the minds of the Brotherhood once the jet neared New York City. The jet itself was small, nowhere near the original from Cuba, but impressive nonetheless. It fit the X-Men easily enough. Plus, its small size allowed Hank to create some type of stealth mode that not even Charles fully understood the mechanics of. The scientist had certainly come into his own in the years since Charles had taken him under his wing, something the telepath was immensely proud of.

"That warehouse there," the Brit said, pointing out the window. Hank nodded and guided the plane to the nearest open space. As soon as they touched down, the X-Men freed themselves from their safety harnesses. It was unusually quiet, spirits dampened by the enormity of the task at hand.

"Is everyone ready?" Alex asked from the exit.

"Onwards and forwards, fearless leader," came the reply from Sean. The tension broke just like that as snickers were heard from the remaining X-Men. While Alex had stepped into the role of mission commander somewhat reluctantly, Sean had been happy to stay out of the spotlight. Instead, the redhead created a role he could make his own. Everyone jokingly called him the morale officer, but it was a position he took great pride in. All in all, the X-Men had come together as a cohesive group, despite some of them being barely being old enough to legally drink.

Hank had fully shut down the jet and moved to stand with Alex. Everyone looked to Charles.

"I'll remain here and provide any guidance I can telepathically. Miss Frost is already blocking the Brotherhood's minds from me, so I won't be able to collectively stop them, but I will do what I can. Remember what we're fighting for. I have the utmost confidence in each and every one of you. You all know what to do. Good luck."

With that, the ramp lowered and the X-Men began to move.

* * *

><p>Magneto couldn't find it in himself to be surprised when Charles' X-Men landed and began their advance towards the warehouse that housed his machine. He and his Brotherhood had just arrived themselves, the three he'd left with the machine moving out to greet them. How Charles had found them and how he even knew what they were up to was beyond him, but at the moment that particular concern was less important than the task at hand.<p>

The battle began in earnest in the blink of an eye. Charles' people fought with far more ferocity than they usually did. Previously, their meetings could have been characterized as skirmishes more than outright battles, one side attempting to stop the other, but knowing the result of failure wasn't dire. This time, both sides had something to fight for and both seemed to know the consequences of losing. Magneto very stubbornly didn't think about how this battle, whether won or lost, would change the entire dynamic of the hostility between the X-Men and Brotherhood. Instead, he hurled a metal beam at Iceman, who was currently in a rather unexpected clash with Mystique. Havok managed to deflect the beam while shooting a challenging glare at the magnokinetic. After that, there was enough distraction that he was able to slip away towards the warehouse. He had faith in his Brotherhood to keep the X-Men busy while he completed the mission.

* * *

><p>This was the part Charles hated about his paralysis…not being able to see the action. Yes, his ability to help was unimpeded, but the part he was still having a hard time with, even after two years, was sending his students into danger he couldn't face alongside them. As he suspected, Emma kept the members of the Brotherhood shielded from his influence. Still, he did what he could and directed them in their respective battles.<p>

This night, it turned out to be a blessing that he was on the jet. Otherwise, he wouldn't have seen Erik sneaking off while everyone else was distracted by the fight. He himself would have missed it, his mind so focused on protecting his students, if the ever-present helmet hadn't glinted in the moonlight. Charles smirked. He might not be able to get past it with telepathy, but for once Erik wearing the damned thing played to his advantage. A quick scan of the students' minds told him no one could be spared to follow the man.

He didn't give himself the time to debate whether or not to follow. Erik had to be stopped and, despite his mindset that those currently engaged with the Brotherhood were students (and, therefore, children) he knew they were quite capable of fending for themselves. He could keep them guarded from telepathic influence no matter where he was. With a deep breath, he released the brakes on the chair and exited the jet.

* * *

><p>Magneto glided around the machine making all the last minute adjustments required to initiate the protocol. The room was large, but the machine took up a great deal of space and blocked off even more. He made the last of the calibrations and settled himself in front of the device, admiring what would be the beginning of mutants taking their rightful place in the world.<p>

"It doesn't work."

His cape whipped around as he spun to find Charles had wheeled into the room and was currently 10 feet from him. He cursed himself for being so engrossed in the machine that he'd failed to sense the metal of the chair following him. Charles took the opportunity to continue.

"Senator Kelly is dead. Not every human body is ready for mutation. That's why evolution is such a slow process. It's a potential, not an absolute. If you do this, you'll kill, widow, and orphan hundreds of men, women and children for no other reason than for being different than you."

Erik hesitated. Charles held his breath, hope still fluttering within him until Erik shook his head. "They would just as soon kill us. You know this. Does our suffering mean so little to you? What of that child? Beaten within an inch of his life. Remind me, how many miles was that from your school?"

Charles bristled. "How dare you! How dare you suggest his attack didn't affect me!"

"Then why do you continue to defend them?"

"Because not all of them would see us dead or experimented on!"

The machine whirred to life. "Enough of them would," Erik said as he took his position. "I'm sorry, Charles, but something must be done."

"Erik, stop!" He moved his chair forward a few inches before it came to an abrupt halt.

"I won't. 'A man's own manner and character is what most becomes him.'"

"This isn't who you are! Death and destruction? You're so much better than that!"

"That's where you're wrong, Charles."

Charles' desperation spiked. He could not fall short with this. After failing with Creed, Stryker and the nameless mutant boy, he could not lose Erik too. He could _not_ watch Erik destroy countless human lives in the name of mutant superiority.

"Please, Erik! Please don't do this!"

The buzzing of the machine overrode Charles' pleas. Erik stood with his eyes closed, feeling the machine humming around him, ready to follow his command. He was about to begin when there was an unexpected jolt. The humming shifted to something else entirely.

_This isn't right, _Erik thought to himself with a frown.

After that, everything happened at once. Erik heard Charles release a guttural yell. The weight of the helmet left Erik's head, a different weight set in, then both Erik and Charles were screaming before everything went black.

* * *

><p><em>AN: When I mention the legal drinking age, I meant 18. I could be wrong, but I think the legal drinking age in New York in the 1960s and 1970s was 18. It went up to 19 in 1982, then to 21 in 1985. Wikipedia might be lying to me, but I'm gonna trust it for the time being._

_I have an epilogue to this, then I'm moving to the second sequel. More details on the second sequel will be in the epilogue._


	10. Chapter 10

_Special thanks to everyone who reviewed this story! Extra special thanks to EmperialGem21, Jessica, and SkaterGirl246 for reviewing the last chapter! Your encouragement definitely helped me. Hopefully no one will be disappointed :)_

_Also, thanks to Winnie who helped me out with the last few lines :D_

_It's short, but here it is. See notes at the bottom for details on what's to come._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Good Things Come to Those Who Wait<strong>

It was a week after the failure of Magneto's machine when Mystique called Charles. He agreed to come to their base of operations and Azazel teleported him there promptly.

Mystique's bare feet hardly made a sound walking by his side as he rolled down the hall in his wheelchair. The pair entered a sparse room. At the center, Magneto lay pale and still, obviously unconscious. The helmet sat on a dresser across the room.

"We have no idea what happened," the shapeshifter began, finally breaking the silence that had lain heavily between them. "I assume you know about the machine since your X-Men were there to stop it."

"I do," Charles replied.

Mystique waited for her brother to continue, releasing a frustrated huff when he didn't. "After you pulled your people back…I assume that was you. They all pulled back without warning. You were on the jet, right?"

"I was."

The following pause was just long enough to make it clear the telepath again had no intention of elaborating.

"Anyway, we realized something must have been wrong. We found him collapsed in the machine. It was completely destroyed…rubble everywhere. The helmet was across the room. Did you feel anything from him at any point that night?"

"I was a bit preoccupied at the time. There was a battle going on, if you recall." Charles' face gave nothing away.

"I realize that, it's just-," the girl grit out between her teeth before stopping herself. A deep breath helped calm her fraying nerves. "He's been unresponsive ever since. We don't know what the machine did to him, but Emma hasn't even been able to find him when she's gone in his head. You're our last hope, Charles. You're _his_ last hope."

She gave Charles a pleading look. He returned it with an unaffected one of his own.

"I'll see what I can do. I make no promises."

Mystique, who prided herself in her ability to read and predict people's actions, found herself caught off guard by her brother's demeanor. Then again, they had tried to turn everyone into mutants which, as she'd discovered soon after, would have killed a vast majority of the humans affected. He had a right to be angry, she supposed.

Charles maneuvered himself beside Erik's bed. The magnokinetic lay still aside from the rise and fall of his chest. Charles hesitated, giving the man another unreadable look, then put his hand on Erik's temple and closed his eyes. Mystique waited with baited breath. Not three minutes later, Charles opened his eyes and pulled back.

"He's there, but I can't reach him. No one can. Something happened to him in there that I can't explain."

"Emma said it could have been psychic trauma. You were at the battle. Did you sense anything?"

"I was on the jet the whole time trying to make sure my students weren't killed." The 'by you' was left unspoken. "He was using his own power to work the machine. Are you certain it didn't backfire on him?"

"It's impossible to say for certain with the mangled mess left behind. None of our test runs indicated that something on this scale was even remotely possible."

"Hmm. Well, there's nothing I can do. He'll either come out of it on his own or he won't."

Mystique regarded him with shock. "You're just giving up? Isn't there anything-"

"I'm sorry, Raven." Charles' features softened and he put a comforting hand on her arm. "I've done what I can, but I'm not all powerful. Do let me know if his condition changes."

The rigidity in her shoulders evaporated with defeat. "I will. Thank you for trying, Charles. I'm sorry for dragging you out here pointlessly."

"Think nothing of it. At least I know of his condition. I'll get in touch with you if any solutions spring to mind."

The shapeshifter nodded.

"I'll see myself out if you want to stay with him," Charles continued just before the silence became awkward.

"Thank you," Mystique replied. She took her place by Erik's bed as the telepath turned. Just before he exited, she twisted toward him again.

"Charles?"

The wheelchair stopped but didn't turn.

"Is there really nothing we can do? Nothing that might help him?"

"I'm sorry, but all we can do is wait," Charles said as he began wheeling out again. "Just remember, my dear, 'Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.'"

With his back to his sister, no one could see the private smile of satisfaction that crossed the telepath's face at the words. Moments later, Azazel appeared by his side to return him to Westchester. Charles continued to grin as the red mutant grasped his shoulder.

"Very sweet, indeed."

**To be continued in **_**That Which Will Survive**_

* * *

><p>"<em>Patience is better, but its fruit is sweet" is a quote by Jean-Jacques Rousseau.<em>

_Sorry to leave on that kinda sorta cliffhanger! Even more sorry because I probably won't be able to start posting the sequel until *cringe* May. I have a conference in 2 weeks, my thesis due in 3 weeks, then graduation. I am, however, taking May off so I should have a solid month to work on fanfic and other fun stuff before I start my summer research. Huzzah!_

_I'll post a preview chapter in this story _right _before I start posting the next story so anyone who has this on story alert will know the next sequel is coming up, in case you're still interested in it._

_One more big question, then I'll go. I'm probably going to post this on AO3 with some changes. If anyone has any scenes (either in this or A Spark Neglected) that they think would have benefited the story or needed to be expanded more, message me or review (feel free to review anyway, of course!). I don't know if/how much I'm going to add, but feedback would be nice. Much thanks!_

**Red Aurora**


	11. Preview

_Here it is, the preview for the next installment in this series that I feel should have a name but doesn't. This story is called "That Which Will Survive", which is another one of Onslaught's monikers. The full chapter will be up by the end of the weekend, probably sometime Sunday night, so keep on the lookout._

* * *

><p>"It is rather chilly, isn't it Mr. Jones?"<p>

Jones almost tipped over the trashcan next to him. The smell of rotten eggs permeated the air.

"No need to be frightened. It's only me after all," the man continued. As usual, Andrew couldn't see the man's face, but he was positive his contact was smiling and not in a kind way.

"You just startled me is all," Jones defended as he straightened his coat. "You don't make a sound when you approach. You should be a spy."

"Who's to say I'm not?"

Jones had no idea whether the man was kidding. He choked out an uncomfortable laugh.

"You have information for me?"

"Yeah," the scientist said before clearing his throat and shifting into what he thought of as his professional mode. "Yes. Colonel Stryker is well on his way to finishing his project. He's still not telling any of us what he intends to do with it, but he let slip where the parts are being sent as we finish them."

"And where would that be?"

"Some place in Canada called Alkali Lake."

"Excellent. That's very helpful, Andrew."

Jones frowned. He always felt like the man was talking down to him, even though he was the one with the information. It gave him an odd desire to tell the man more. To prove his worth. "There's something else."

"Oh? Well, speak then. We don't have all night."

"Stryker wants to meet with some geneticist. I think his name is Charles Xavier? He's apparently been on the news talking about mutants."

The pause that followed was dangerous.

"And why would he want to do that?" his contact inquired, sounding every bit as dangerous as the preceding pause.

"I- I don't know."

"And I suppose it would be odd for you to ask without looking too curious."

"Probably. He called him today. He was still grumbling about having to leave a message when he came for my progress report."

"Check."

"Wh-what?"

"Not you," the man said airily.

Andrew heard a strange sort of popping sound. "What was that?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with. You really have no idea why he's trying to contact Xavier?"

"No…I mean, well, he's run into some difficulties procuring some of the supplies. Maybe he thinks Xavier can help him?"

"No," his contact replied absently, "that wouldn't make sense. Stryker hasn't directly contacted Charles in nearly two years. Even then, it wasn't…amiable. If Stryker is contacting him now, he has something up his sleeve. You're sure of this?"

"Absolutely."

"What supplies is he having trouble procuring?"

"Some types of metals I think and a few other parts for the user interface. The blueprints and results are all based off one test subject and the scale was so much smaller then. That's why we've been having difficulty figuring out how exactly to work the interface. Stryker has had us contacting doctors and scientists who specialize in brain scanning technology. I'm not quite the expert the first scientist who worked on this project was."

"Yes, Hank has quite the brilliant mind."

Jones' spine shot straighter, his eyes honing in on the shadow the voice was hidden in. "How did you know about McCoy? I've never said anything about- never mind, do you know where he is? Is he okay? What about Maddicks?"

His contact chuckled.

"This is serious!" Andrew shouted in frustration.

"Yes, yes, of course," the man replied, though the chuckling didn't quite leave his voice. "Hank is fine. I can't say the same for Dr. Maddicks, but we each make our own choices and we must live with their consequences."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"If you don't already know, it's too late to educate you now. It's getting late and I'm required elsewhere. To sum up, Stryker's pet project is nearing completion with the exception of shortages in needed supplies and he intends to contact Charles Xavier to set up a face-to-face meeting."

"Yes."

"Any other information he gives you would probably be minimal, then, if you've done your part of the project design and he's going after Xavier."

"Probably," Andrew admitted grudgingly.

They were interrupted by the popping sound again, followed by a heavy voice Andrew didn't recognize.

"It is as he says. A message was left at Westchester by Stryker."

"Who the hell is that?" Andrew asked in a panic. "How did he get here?"

"You've been most helpful, Mr. Jones," his contact said in answer. "Unfortunately, you have reached the end of your usefulness and I can't have any loose ends floating around. You have my sincerest thanks."

The scientist didn't even have time to wipe the slack-jawed surprise from his face before the world disappeared.

* * *

><p><em>So there you have it...a taste of what's to come. Like I said, I'll try to have the full chapter posted by Sunday night. If you're interested, look for <strong>That Which Will Survive<strong> to pop up. Hope to see you then!_

_Red Aurora_


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